


When We Were Alone

by InterNutter



Series: When We Were Us [8]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fantasy Drug Use, Gen, baby twins, criminal activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: The worst thing happens. The twins are separated.





	1. Chapter 1

Koko had been swept away from her in the crush. He remembered struggling to see which way she went. Climbing some other fleeing citizen to try and see. Screaming her name. Hearing his voice lost in the screams of the multitude. And now he was lost among the tumble-downs and growing shanty towns outside of an Elf city whose name he couldn’t read. He had glasses to protect others from his witch eyes, but nowhere to rest was safe without Lulu there.

It had been three days.

He’d taken to graffiti on the shanty walls. Koko was here. Looking for Lulu. Koko waits here at noon.

All fruitless.

He couldn’t meditate without her. He couldn’t sleep without her. All he could do was walk and look and ask anyone who had a spare moment for him.

“I’m looking for my sister. My twin sister. Hey. Have you seen a girl who looks just like me?”

Nobody had time for a ragged Elf who looked like an adult. He had a grownup’s size, and could pass for an adult, but none of the vocabulary. People thought him simple, especially since he spoke Elven like a tweenager.

He and his sister had been speaking Common so long that they hadn’t learned the more sophisticated corners of the Elven language.

And worse, people knew what the glasses meant. And it was considered bad luck to let any witch-eyed Elf settle anywhere near them.

Which lead to him hunkering inside the bin that he was scrounging food out of. Correction, that he had scraped clean of any remaining edible food. Caught between collapsing from exhaustion and spikes of abject terror that the one person he could rely on was nowhere nearby.

Any rest he could get was for minutes at a time, at most. It was excruciating.

And then someone tipped his bin over and sent him careening into a wall. He felt the Hazel stick in his hair snap.

No wand. No sister. No magic. No food. No hope.

Koko scrunched up on himself, trying to protect his head. “Please! Don’t hurt me!”

“Holy shit. I hatched a feeb…”

“Leave ‘em alone, Dors.”

“What? Why?”

“Lookit ‘em. They got nobody.”

Koko really didn’t need to be reminded of that. Not right now, at the lowest he had reached in his short life. Sobs tore his throat on the way out. He was a little bubble of pain and anguish and abject misery.

He cried like a baby.

And there were soothing hands rubbing his back. A warm presence somewhere outside of his arms and legs. A gentle voice. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. Ssh. It’s all right now. We got your back, kid. Come on. Come on. Lean into me. ‘S gotta be cold, right? I’m all warm and you can share my cloak. It’s okay.”

Once coaxed into the shared warmth of the cloak, Koko cried himself out. Or at least cried himself to a shuddering halt where there were no more tears to weep.

Someone aimed a pipe at his mouth. It was already lit. “Take a hit, you’ll feel better.”

Koko mained it. Took a deep, long drag with all the lung capacity he could muster.

“Whoa! Whoa! Easy, that’s  _ fluff _ in there!”

Too late. Way too late. Koko held his breath and languidly passed the pipe to his right, where Lulu would be if she was with him, and let himself flop when someone’s fingers took the pipe away. There was no pain, any more. No heart-sickness. No agonising ache of loneliness. No sorrow. No mourning. Not even the perpetual gnawing of hunger could reach him here.

He was dimly aware of voices outside the haze of ‘lion smoke.

“Fucking shit, he dragged half a bowl in one hit!”

“Let it out before you choke, kid!”

“Fuck. Has he even  _ had _ fluff before?”

“Breathe out. C’mon. Breathe out before you fucking die!”

“Breathe out or pass out, kid.”

“Least he has the manners to pass the pipe…”

Someone was slamming him on the back. Someone was shaking him. It all felt like a dream. His body exhaled and there was a chorus of thanks to the gods. His next inhalation of air was sweet like heaven, and he was happy to just breathe and lean against the nearest warm body, drowsy and limp from a dose of ‘lion that had hit him harder than any puff in his past.

Someone took off his glasses. They were cheap gimcrack that everyone believed protected people from evil witch-eyes. Cheap coloured glass and even cheaper wire. Not so easy to replace now that he had nothing left.

“...giv’s it…” he whined. He couldn’t move his arms to try and grab them back. “...needit…”

“Witch eyes,” cooed the out-of-focus Elf. “Hey, witch-eyes… you ever had fluff before?”

“Dunno,” he slurred. “Giv’s it back…. P’pl beat me up ‘f I don’ gottem…”

The warm presence under his left shoulder said, “Give them back, Tren.”

Clumsy hands put the glasses back on him. Koko relaxed a little more.

“You got a name, kid?”

“Koko,” said Koko. “‘S really goo’ ‘lion…”

“Yeah, I put a seed in there with th’ leaves,” said Dors. “Hits harder and longer’n regular weeds.”

Oh. That explained a lot, then. “Izzat fluff?”

“Yeah. One seed’s just fluff. Then there’s double and triple fluff.”

“I heard of one kid who did quad fluff,” said an unknown voice. “They’re in an asylum ‘cause they think they’re an orange an’ they don’t wanna be squeezed.”

Koko could move enough to sit up. “That’s bullshit,” he said. “They say that about all the pipeweed and potions.”

“He can talk!” There was a cheer.

“You bounce fast, Ko,” said one of the gang. Tren. “Done a lot of ‘lion?”

“Done ‘lion. Took a few whack pots. Me an’ my sis--” his voice died in his throat. Dandelion, even with the seeds, could only take away the pain for so long. He got it all out before the bad feelings came back in full force. “Guys, I’m looking for my twin sister. You -ah- you seen anyone looking like me wandering around? She… she’s the one who does a lot of ‘lion.”

The pipe found its way back to him with, “Small puff, this time.”

He inhaled the pain away. Passed it to his right. “Have you seen ‘er?”

“Dude, we just hang in  _ our _ dragon’s den,” street slang for any group of Elves who hung around and smoked. “It ain’t exactly the Spring Social. No dens are. Not really.”

The Elf holding him was looking at the curve of his jawline. Examining the knobbly attributes of his wrists. “You haven’t eaten or rested in a while, huh?”

“Can’t find a lot of food,” Koko admitted. “Can’t rest without Lulu. Doesn’t feel safe.”

“Here we go,” said Dors. “Den-mom Zrit.”

“You were glad at the time, Dors.” Zrit halfway picked up Koko as she stood. “C’mon. We can scam something off’a Rekhal’s this time’a day. How old are you, Ko?”

He mumbled, “...twenty-one?”

“Aw shit, he’s a baby,” cooed one of the gang. “And he fucking mained your fluff, Karz.”

“Shut it. Only Zrit’s twice his age anyhow.”

The gang formed an honour guard around Koko, and lead him through a labyrinth of trampled dirt streets to a slightly larger shanty-shack that smelled… almost delicious. It was a slop house. One of those places that cooked anything edible in the least expensive way. And Koko could see that the kitchen was put together sideways and the head chef didn’t know what he was doing.

“You know,” he said, “You need space between the deep fryer and the hot plate or you’re going to get a lot of burns and fire happening. And if you put the chopping station in the middle, there’ll be less people tripping each other up.”

“And I suppose you know all about it?”

“Yeah, and I also know your guy can’t chop onions for shit.”

Koko had to put his labor where his mouth was, and stunned everyone by shopping up onions like a pro. He’d had years to work at it. And before he knows it, he’s showing everyone how to make  _ slop house _ food taste nicer than it usually did and the whole gang and all the cooks were just staring in awe.

He slowed to a halt. Feeling ashamed of himself. “Anyway, that’s how to do it good,” he mumbled. “An’ if you see another Elf who looks like me wandering around? Tell her that Koko’s looking for her and he’s hanging with… Zrit. ‘Kay?”

“Sweetie,” said the manager. “Would you like a job?”

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d cooked for his keep. “Got a place to crash f’r me ‘n’ my homies?”

Zrit watched over him while he slept. Actually slept. Koko wasn’t the only wandering orphan who preferred the potential awareness of sleep over the complete rest and vulnerability of meditation. She was the oldest of the young Elves in the gang. The closest any of them had to a mother, any more.


	2. Chapter 2

Lulu bounced from Dragon’s Den to Dragon’s Den. Not smoking for the first time in years. Just asking and watching and hoping and praying that Koko was still alive. The press of the panicked crowd had been too much. Far too much. And her nightmares were full of his hand slipping from hers.

But this was not like the day they were born. She would not scream and fuss and howl until he was returned to her side. She had to look for him herself. Simply because there was nobody else to trust. Gutter Elven was the lingua franca of the shanty towns and she spoke it shakily. Too long talking Common. Too long speaking in  _ Us _ with her brother. Too long away from her own people.

People thought she was an idiot.

Her green witch-eye glasses had been shattered in the rush, so she kept her eyes down and never looked at anyone’s face. Took temporary jobs in slop houses to try and earn enough coin for a bed or a bench in a hostel.

And it was after a month of this that she finally got news of Koko. From a passing merchant who was also down on his luck.

He said, “Koko? I thought you were working in Tirellari.”

Lulu broke land speed records zooming over to him. “YOU KNOW WHERE MY BROTHER IS?”

“Oh. You’re the sister.” The merchant was one of the cat-like folk who enjoyed trading and games of Wits and Wagers. “There’s another Elf refuge east of here, and that’s where he’s working. The slop house there is making coin hand over fist.”

Lup was already running eastwards.

It took her two more days to find Tirellari. A further three to locate the best slop house. She knew she had it right the instant she smelled the cooking. Koko could never stay away from garlic. He fucking loved the stuff.

She tried to run in, but people stopped her. Insisted she wait her turn. She boggled at them and tried to tell them she was his twin. That he was looking for her. They, in turn, argued that he wasn’t looking that hard since he hardly left the kitchen.

So she joined the queue and fumed for an hour and a half. Until she got to the counter where she could order.

At which point she screamed, “I WANT MY BROTHER WITH SIDE OF WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Someone dropped a big metal bowl and then her brother vaulted over the countertop and landed on her in a hug. He reeked of ‘lion and garlic and onions and she didn’t care.

“Why weren’t you looking for me, dingus?” she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“I figured you’d find me by my cooking, doofus.” He was grinning ear to ear. Overjoyed. Kissing her cheek in a rare display of sibling affection. “Wanna cook with?”

“Doy. Yes. Maybe I can stop you feeding everyone too much garlic.”

“There’s no such thing as too much garlic.”


End file.
